


unexpected

by RaisingCaiin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Cultural Differences, Domestic Fluff, Drinking & Talking, Feelings, First Kiss, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Romance, Soft Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-10 23:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20144008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaisingCaiin/pseuds/RaisingCaiin
Summary: The first time Finn says something, it's quite the surprise for Poe.





	unexpected

**Author's Note:**

  * For [riots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/riots/gifts).

> Soft pining Finn/Poe with a happy ending? So here for it :,) Thank you for the great prompts and hope you enjoy!

The first time it happens, it’s a complete surprise.

To clarify – it’s not the tentative knock on the door of Poe’s quarters that’s the surprising thing, and neither is it the fact that his visitor this evening is Finn. By now Poe has figured out that his friend is not used to having an entire room _(“And a washroom, Poe?” “And a washroom, buddy.”) _to himself after so long in various stormtrooper barracks, where from Finn’s descriptions it sounds like the beds had been stacked three and four units high, marched dozens of rows wide. So Poe has come to expect that Finn will show up at his door some nights with a blanket and a pillow and a sheepish smile, a promise that maybe soon he’ll be able to sleep by himself and stop bothering Poe, and Poe will wave him in with a grin and a corresponding promise that he’s not bothering Poe at all. And Poe’s groaning back has come to expect that every other night he’ll be sleeping on the couch because he’s not about to let a houseguest sleep there instead, but –

Look. The late Shara Bey, Force rest her soul, might not have raised a gentleman in Poe, but she did at least raise a son with a _sense_ of manners. 

Anyhow. The surprise the first time is _why_ Finn shows up this particular night.

“You all right there, buddy?” To Poe’s experienced eye, Finn looks a little skittish when he opens the door, and this suspicion is confirmed when Finn reddens, a little, and ducks his face a bit rather than meet Poe’s concerned gaze.

_(But believe it or not, that’s still progress, and Poe is so proud to see it, because when Poe first brought Finn to base here, the former stormtrooper had acted like he needed to meet everyone’s eyes at all times or else he’d be disciplined for it. And it had taken time, more time than Poe had liked in fact, for them to help Finn realize that here he was more than just the meat filling for a faceless white helmet – that here he is an individual and a man and a fighter of the Resistance as much and as good as any of the rest of them. . .) _

“Buddy?” Poe prompts gently when his friend doesn’t answer. And Force within, Finn might be about the same height as Poe himself is but _damn _if he doesn’t still somehow manage to peek up through his eyelashes at Poe, hesitant and a little shy.

Distantly, watching Finn’s stunning lashes sweep open and then closed again over Finn’s even more stunning eyes, Poe wonders what if this is what it feels like to have a heart attack. ‘Cause no he’s no medic but yes he’d bet good money that it goes a little something like this, with his chest is seizing up and his heart skipping a beat or two or five and his lungs not quite getting him the air he needs before his head goes all light and floating.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Finn is saying, all bashful-like, and at the sound of his voice Poe snaps back to base with a start. “It’s just – Poe, do you, or do Resistance folks –“

When some folk say _Resistance _Poe can hear the sneers in their voices, or the exhaustion of fighting a cause that loses ground every day, or the apathy of those who are here because they’ve got nothing more to lose. But when Finn says _Resistance_, Poe can hear the capital R. It’s all still there – Finn’s quiet pride, his newfound belief, his unwavering loyalty.

The First Order don’t deserve anyone, but. They especially didn’t deserve this man, Poe thinks.

Poe _knows. _So.

“Do Resistance folks what?” Poe prods again, still gentle-like as he steps aside to let Finn step past him into the room. Into the room that Poe has gradually come to think of as _theirs, _rather than _his_ alone anymore even if it’s still got his kit by the tiny sink and his droid by the charging socket in the corner chirping a greeting and his blanket hastily thrown over the tiny, cramped couch instead of on the bed when he’d first heard Finn’s knock.

And Finn steps in, his grin growing wider as he takes a deep breath. Like the air out in the hall ain’t the same. Like he can only get the air he needs here, when he’s with Poe, and _shut up Dameron_ but ain’t that a lovely thought. . .

“Oh, yes!” Finn finally responds. “Do, uhh, do Resistance folks watch, uhhh, holovids?”

. . . may the Force or the higher entity of Shara Bey’s personal choice guide and protect Poe if Finn is asking what Poe thinks he’s asking.

“You mean like pornos?” he asks, trying – and probably failing – to keep his voice light as he does.

And Finn _flushes. _

. . . nope nope, Poe takes that all back – too early, too early! _Now _may said Force or higher entity guide and protect him, because Finn when he’s blushing is entirely too gorgeous a picture to be believed, and Poe is afraid that he’s _staring. _

And Finn seems to think that Poe is staring too, because he blushes deeper, protesting “No!” The word is almost a squeak by the end of it. “I don’t – Poe! Who actually watches pornography?”

The former stormtrooper can’t even bring himself to say the shorter, coarser word for a dirty ‘vid, and Poe realizes with a soft pang that he is probably in love. Somewhere the late Shara Bey is laughing gently at her son, Poe just knows it, and he wouldn’t begrudge her that amusement one tiny bit because even though he’s caught in the thick of it, it _is _kind of funny how completely head over ass Poe is for this man.

Because this part, the part about Poe being in love, isn’t the surprise of the night, either. Poe has known this about himself for weeks – this fact that he’s hopelessly attracted to Finn’s luminous smiles and his eager curiosity and that innate sense of fairness and compassion that even the First Order hadn’t been strong enough to quell. He can’t imagine anymore what this room, what this base, what his _life _would be like without this man in them.

Somehow, though, Poe is able to articulate actual words around this overwhelming heartful of mushy things. “Lotsa people watch pornos, buddy, and there’s no judgment on them for it! Or on you either if you want one, pinky promise.”

Finn just shakes his head, mute for a moment longer under the weight of his own blush before he speaks again. “No, I meant, holovids like – well, more like the mances?”

It’s not a word that Poe is familiar with, and he’s heard a lot of words in his time used to describe ‘vids. “You know, I don’t know what that is, actually?” As he’s speaking, though, Poe is yanking his blanket back off the couch and tossing it on the bed, pulling up his tiny little table and holoplayer with a soft grunt, nudging BB8 back toward their corner with a gentle foot when the droid rolls over to investigate. Getting everything ready that Finn will need to enjoy whatever kind of ‘vid it is that the mances turn out to be.

Finn watches all of this with a slightly bewildered expression. “Huh. I thought for sure everyone would know the mances, since even we could get them if we were lucky.” From the bemused tone of voice Poe can tell that Finn’s _we _here has slipped away from being a _we the Resistance _back into _we the stormtroopers_ – the faceless, the nameless, the voiceless ‘til now. And however much that might bother other folks on base, it doesn’t matter to Poe much at all, because through Finn he’s started to see that it’s the First Order brass who most need to answer for their atrocities, and maybe the stormtroopers themselves include other brave, bright souls like this one.

Well. Not as brave and bright and beautiful as Finn, Poe is damn sure of that, but – still. Individuals caught up and conditioned into something bigger than they can get their way out of.

Anyway.

“You pirated these ‘mances’ of yours, then?” Poe asks Finn, delighted at the mental image of stormtroopers using the antenna off their comms gear or something to bypass morality codes in search of dirty ‘vids.

Finn shifts, foot to foot and then back again, a little shy. “Yeah. So. Yeah, that’s why I don’t know what folks outside the Order might call them, or how to get them properly.”

“Awww, no – don’t be sorry, bud.” If Poe had his way, this incredible man would never have to feel sorry about, or for, anything ever again. “We’ll figure it out, ‘cause I want you to have things you like.”

The tiny smile that blooms into a grin across Finn’s face would be worth a lot more hardship than this, Poe thinks.

“Maybe it would help to tell you about them?” Finn muses.

Can’t hurt to try, and Poe tells him so. Mostly because his fool brain is starting to catch up with his wandering eyes and his much cleverer hands, and Poe’s realizing that if they find the kind of vid that Finn is asking to see, then maybe Poe can sit beside him on this tiny couch and pull the blanket over both of them and even encourage Finn to rest his head on Poe’s shoulder. . .

Yeah, all right, _whew_. Poe was already invested in figuring out what the hell mances might be, both for the mystery of it and for the smile that he can imagine on Finn’s face when they find one. But now, with that mental image of holding Finn close for a couple of hours. . .

Poe would really, really like that. So.

“Yeah, so tell me all about ‘em.”

“They’re made-up stories, most of the time,” Finn start, and Poe is about to head him off there because that doesn’t narrow it down much in the world of ‘vids, but Finn’s already going on: “And there’s usually a love story, and that love story is the focus, and it’s all about the characters facing challenges to be together, and in the end there’s a kiss and a sunset and a wedding.”

Oh.

“Does that help at all, Poe?”

_Oh. _

“Poe? Poe, you all right?”

Ohhhhhhh shit. These ‘mances’ are _romances, _fuck, and honestly Poe would almost rather take his chances with Finn watching _pornos_ while Poe is in the same room, because the way Poe’s heart about implodes every time Finn does anything, Poe’s not gonna survive sitting next to him for an entire romance ‘vid.

“Poe?” Finn’s concerned voice has been joined by BB8’s whirring chirrup of curiosity, and Poe shakes himself out of his revelation about mances just enough to offer them both what he hopes is a dazzling smile.

“Yeah, sure, I’m fine. Yeah, BB8, I promise! Finn, what you’re looking for are _romances, _buddy, and there’s lots of different kinds.” Even as he’s speaking, Poe is already flicking through the classics he’s got preloaded on his holoplayer.

_(No, it’s not like he watches these on the regular or anything, these are just the standard options everyone has auto access to – or at least that’s the story that Poe would give the other pilots if pressed. He might tell a different story if _Finn_ were the one asking him, point out that the download dates coincide with the first few weeks that Finn came on base as well, but. _

_That’s neither here nor there right now ‘cause Finn ain’t asking, right?) _

Meanwhile, Finn looks astonished. His eyes widen as Poe turns the holoplayer toward him, displaying a screen with at least fifteen, _twenty, _different ‘vids to choose from, and he doesn’t even reach out to explore it so Poe scrolls for him, just gently nudging the page up and down so Finn can see his choices.

“I didn’t know there were so many,” Finn finally whispers, and though there’s awe in his voice there’s also a little crack that could be wonder, could be tears, and oh but _damn_ Poe would do anything to make sure that it’s wonder. So.

“Finn. Finn, these are just the romance ‘vids that I already had loaded. There are thousands more out there – _tens_ of thousands, _easy – _and when you find out which kinds you like, then. . . Finn, we can watch ‘em all. I’d watch them all with you.”

And as much as he means it, maybe it was also a bit of a tactical mistake on Poe’s part to say so, because Finn turns that gaze of awe and wonder on him next, and yeah, that was definitely tears Poe heard a moment ago because Finn’s eyes are _shining. _

“Thank you,” Finn whispers, his voice raw with a million things that Poe wouldn’t even risk putting into words, and damn but now Poe can feel his eyes burning too, just a little. But there’s no weakness, no shame, in this kind of visceral proof that something has affected them both so much, so Poe doesn’t wipe these tears away.

Lets Finn see them. Lets one fall, even.

Let ‘em. Finn is free and Finn is here, and damn but Poe loves him to the ends of the galaxy and back again.

“Thank you,” Finn whispers again, his gaze drawn back to the holoplayer and its offerings as if magnetized.

“Of course, buddy,” Poe tells him softly, matching his tone. “Any particular kind you remember liking?”

“The ones with weddings in them,” Finn declares eagerly, taking the hand that Poe now holds out to him and letting Poe encourage him to a seat on the couch. Poe just manages to get him seated before the shock of Finn’s choice totally hits.

Weddings?

“Weddings?”

And maybe some of his astonishment comes through this time, because Finn is doing his nervous through-the-lashes look again, and admits more slowly this time: “Yeah. Is it that strange?”

“Buddy, whatever you’re up for is all right,” Poe assures him, scrolling through the preloaded ‘vids with only half his attention actually on them. The rest is trained on Finn, straining with curiosity to hear the reasoning behind this preference. “Just curious, I guess. Why weddings?”

Finn nods, beaming and dry-eyed again, before he then proceeds to rip several new holes in Poe’s heart.

“We all loved the wedding ones because they are so _fantastic_,” Finn says, his enthusiastic still quiet but growing as Poe doesn’t interrupt him. “I mean, the idea of a ceremony where someone you care for promises to cherish you and hold you and all of that, forever, no matter what happens. . .”

And here Finn trails off, a faraway look in his eyes, and even without further detail Poe can just about picture it – during the day, so much faceless cannon fodder; at night, individuals who huddle in discrete groups to try and find stories of other individuals who are loved, treasured, celebrated, for that individuality.

If there are tears in Poe’s eyes now, they’re of a very different kind than the ones earlier. But Finn goes on: “I mean, who even _gets _weddings, really? We used to talk about it, sometimes. A few of the others, they said they remembered parents who might have had weddings; some also said they’d seen weddings among higher-ups in the Order. But none of those really seem like the ones we got to see in the mances, so.”

He shrugs, and they are pressed so close together that the movement of his shoulders becomes the movement of Poe’s. “They’re nice to watch because they’re so unlike real life.”

Poe doesn’t even think before he’s moving, unable to avoid jostling Finn as he first sits upright and then practically tumbles to the floor before the couch. He grabs for Finn’s hands and luckily locates them; finds them rock-steady, where Poe’s are the ones shaking.

“Finn. Buddy.” His voice is almost hoarse and that long-time endearment feels so inadequate now: almost immediately Poe is amending it. 

“Finn. _Love.” _

It feels so strange to finally say it, strange but also good, and Poe feels the urge to press his lips to Finn’s fingers and so he does, and Finn’s eyes grow wider and wider with every single thing he does. Beside him the screen glows, paused and momentarily forgotten, and Force help him but Poe would like to keep it that way, just this once.

“Doesn’t have to stay a story though, Finn,” he whispers. “If you want one of those weddings, all your very own, someday, you can have it – no one can keep it from you. And if – if you wanted – I’d really, really like to be there with you.” And, just in case Poe’s own fumbling isn’t clear enough, he finishes in a rush: “I’d like to be the one beside you.”

“Really?” Finn asks, quiet and wondering, his hands finally ever so slightly unsteady in Poe’s own. “You’d do that, the whole _love and cherish and keep forever _piece?”

Poe nods, fierce and fervent, and then _Force keep him Force kEEP him_ Finn is leaning down as if uncertain what he wants but knowing that he’ll find it upon Poe’s lips, and who is Poe to deny him this, or anything?

This won’t be the end of it, of course. There are many more discussions to have, figuring out what Finn knows and what Finn wants and how much Poe can do; many more nights where Finn will show up at Poe’s door hoping he’s awake and wanting to watch one of the many tens of thousands of romance holovids available on a free Resistance holoplayer.

But the second time it happens, this moment where Finn expresses an interest in the idea of weddings – the second time, and the third time, and the fourth and fifth and on until one day a wedding actually happens – it is no longer a surprise to Poe, simply another of the many reasons he loves this man as completely as he does.


End file.
